


The Sun Will Rise

by Poisontree



Category: The Dark Pictures: Man of Medan (Video Game), Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Crossover Pairings, Eventual Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Mild Gore, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-10-28 22:23:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20786009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poisontree/pseuds/Poisontree
Summary: Josh and Conrad, two college students who spent more time partying than studying. One just wanted to pull a prank to get revenge for the loss of his sisters, the other was simply trying to solve a problem the best way he knew how - with money. Both of them made horrible mistakes. Mistakes that got the people they cared about killed, leaving only them as the survivors. Wracked with immense guilt and trauma, they eventually found themselves forced into a state of the art recovery method, the sort that only the richest of the rich would bother with.This is the story of piecing together the fragments of sanity. Of finding comfort in a kindred soul.





	1. Sunset - 1900

Conrad did this. His frame curled in on itself as he sat with his back to a cabinet on the Duke. Even with his eyes closed, he could still see it all. Fliss, a bullet to the brain. Brad, stabbed in the stomach. Alex, his head being slammed into the wall. And Julia... the bends. Because Conrad had pressured her into that beer. It was his fault, all of it. The money, the explosion that had her panicked, the beer that sealed her fate... all of them were dead and it was all his fault. When the Duke of Milan reached the shore, Conrad was unlucky enough to be found sprawled out on the deck next to the corpse of his sister, blood flowing freely from his wrists, two dozen emptied beer bottles scattered nearby. He'd wanted to die more than anything. He didn't deserve to live, not after everything he did. But he was going to. In his daze, he recognized the pressure being applied to his wounds, and then the stretcher that arrived later that took him away from his sister. He didn't want to live.  
  
Josh did this. He just wanted to prank them... just wanted some... some revenge for killing his sisters. If one of them died, it would have been a sad accident, but not undeserved. But then they all started dying. Chris... Ashley... Sam... they should have lived. They shouldn't have been in pieces or broken or... or burned. How long had he been in the cave? Days? Weeks? He was so hungry... just one bite... He moved toward the corpse with a hunger in his dark eyes, and there was simultaneous movement further in the cave. The sound of rocks moving, shuffling feet, and the faint glow of a light. Voices called a name that he only barely recognized as his own, and Josh managed a weak whimper in response. The sound echoed through the cave enough for him to be heard, and soon the sounds drew nearer. Everyone who had come to his party was dead, and Josh knew as figures burst into the cave depths, none of them recognizable or hopeful. There was a darkness to them, one he knew all too well, even as he left it behind.  
  
PTSD. Emotional Trauma. Depression. Anxiety. Shock. Insomnia. Gynophobia. Eating Disorder. Avoidant Personality Disorder. Borderline Personality Disorder. Nyctophobia. Self Harm. Survivor's Syndrome. The two patients shared some similarities, and their situations were wildly unbelievable. They were treated in the same facility, though rarely noticed each other as the trauma ran so deep, at times, they felt they were still on that ship or in that cave. Still being hunted, every waking moment. In time, they were advised to share a living space, given enough time to begin processing their experiences. They were monitored closely in terms of mental health development - an attempt to discover if pairing two victims of extreme emotional trauma would support one another. This is the story of surviving. Of help arriving quickly, but not quickly enough. Of coping with guilt and suffering. Of finding something amidst loss.

* * *

Conrad entered the new space slowly, lifting the hem of his shirt up over his nose and dry, cracked lips. Was it... safe? Was the mist here? No. No, he didn't see it. He set the duffel bag beside the couch, blue eyes scanning the room. Exits. Front door, two windows, hallway to the... kitchen, stairs likely to bedrooms. Hiding spaces... potential weapons. It seemed fairly bare, but it was safe enough. After another moment, he allowed himself to sit on the couch with a light sigh. Part of his recovery was socializing in a safe and healthy environment, a way to slowly re-learn how to be part of society. One of the benefits of having massively rich parents meant top of the line care using progressive techniques and doctors with way too much time on their hands. He reached into the duffel and pulled out a book - Shroud of Innocence - and began reading. It was a terrible book, young adult romance, and the protagonist got herself kidnapped by a cult. It made Conrad sad, brought back the guilt like crashing waves, but he couldn't stop trying to read it. He managed to get through a whole paragraph before the door opened.  
  
A guy, maybe only 2 or 3 years younger than Conrad stepped into the living room which had a flimsy, all glass door. His skin was a pale tan, and looked as though it would have been darker had he gotten more sunlight. His hands shook slightly as he held the plastic handle of a suitcase on wheels. He had tired eyes with heavy bags and dark circles almost as dark as his irises. But when Conrad looked at those eyes, their gazes met and the pair almost immediately turned away. Conrad bit at his lower lip, peeling off a bit of skin without paying much attention to the coppery tasting result. The guy stood in an awkward silence for a minute, maybe two, before finally moving further into the room. He sat in a cushioned chair, rustling through the suitcase until he held a picture frame in his hands. Conrad couldn't see it from where he sat, and even when the guy set it on the counter, it was so small, it was barely discernible. It looked like... a group of people, maybe.  
  
He didn't say anything. Neither of them did. One read, the other fiddled with his phone. They made no motion to get food, only turned on some lights and adjusted the central air to compensate for the gentle autumn chill. When the sun sank below the horizon, Conrad finally stopped pretending to read and looked over the pages at the guy. He was still looking at his phone... pretty intensely. It was a few heartbeats before he found his voice, and then two more before the words accompanied. "...Hey. I'm Conrad," once, he would have said that his friends call him Connie, but... he didn't have any. Not any more.  
  
The guy looked up from his phone with notably more wetness than Conrad had seen in his eyes prior. "Josh," his voice was weak, weaker than Conrad's even, and the blonde figured if they were to compete for who had gone the longest without speaking, Josh would have won by weeks.  
  
The scars on his wrists itched, and Conrad had long given up trying to baby them. He looked away from Josh, feeling like he was intruding suddenly. "Cool."  
  
The rest of the night passed in relative silence, with neither man disturbing the other further. 

* * *

Josh was back in the cave, the sound of water droplets crashing into tiny puddles making a sort of haunting metronome amidst the otherwise still silence. Some small amount of light shone through the cracks in the ceiling as it were, and the acrid smell of a decaying corpse threatened to induce vomit with each passing moment. The only reason he held his stomach being that there was nothing inside to lose. He hadn't eaten in 3 days, hadn't slept in 4, and the images were growing increasingly disturbing. His sisters were there, sat silent, legs crossed as they stared at him blankly. There was no hint of emotion, the only sign of life was the wetness of their eyes. They didn't speak, didn't move, didn't even breathe. But he heard them. Eat it, they said wordlessly. Eat it, Josh. Eat it and live. But how could he? The smell... the look of it... no, he wouldn't. He couldn't. He refused, and his sisters finally moved toward him. Their limbs elongated, their skin paled and stretched to reveal rows upon rows of sharp teeth. They drew closer at an unbelievable speed, and long claws dug into his flesh. Josh screamed, but the sound was drowned out by their inhuman screech, and then their teeth were upon him. He watched them tear away bits of his arm, then his stomach. Soon he could see his intestines spilling out, and no matter how frantically he tried to pull away or put himself back together, his sisters continued to bite and rend and immobilize him.  
  
He awoke to something touching him and screamed anew, scrambling backward until he tumbled off the back of the chair he was in. Where was he? Josh fumbled until his back was against the wall, and then he covered his face with his hands. There was a distant voice, but he couldn't look. If he didn't look at them, they wouldn't come for him. Eventually their whispers subsided, but Josh didn't trust it. He held his position, back to the wall, hands over his eyes, for... well, he didn't know. Long enough for his knees to lock, and his arms to start shaking from the weight of holding them up. Slowly and with a held breath, he risked a glance. When his hands lowered, there was nothing there. They were gone. A sigh came before steadying breaths, and Josh's legs fell straight under him, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. Though his left hand hit something that made him jump.  
  
When he looked, it was that guy Conrad. He was sitting next to Josh, one knee bent, arms crossed over his lap, head rolled forward and slightly to the right. It looked like an incredibly uncomfortable position, but... he was asleep. How long had he been sitting there? Sometime after Josh had made his way over here... the whole time? The longer he looked, the more he noticed about his new roommate. He only had one leg, something he hadn't noticed before, likely he had a really good prosthetic. There were a bunch of little scars on his face, and a piece of his right ear was missing. Conrad stirred, and slowly blinked his eyes open, though Josh looked away before they could make eye contact. He heard a sigh, then a pop. A yawn and stretch, maybe? He didn't look to see. There was a near silence aside from the faint sounds of breathing, a clock ticking, and nature outside the windows. It was a comfortable atmosphere overall. Sitting in the modestly sized living room, lit a warm yellow from a desk lamp, knowing he wasn't alone or trapped... that he was with someone who apparently understood him. The doctors had said that his recovery partner had also been through trauma, and that spending time together was expected to help the both of them heal naturally... or something. Josh had been wary, but this Conrad guy made a decent first impression at least.  
  
"You hungry?" The sudden voice made Josh jump, and his head quickly swiveled toward the source. Conrad was looking at him with tired eyes, slightly puffy. Had he been crying while Josh slept, or were those bruises? He blinked back the stunned silence and forced himself to attempt an answer.  
  
"No... I don't, uh. Don't really eat much," he managed, lifting a hand to push his hair back as he looked back toward the window opposite Conrad.  
  
"No problem," came the reply, and the sound of shuffling. "They mentioned you don't do meat, so we have a lot of tofu. I've never had the stuff, so whenever you're feeling up to it, maybe you could help me figure out how to cook it."  
  
"You cook?" Josh finally managed to look back at Conrad who was now standing over him, supporting his weight on the nearby wall. Feeling uncomfortable looking up, Josh forced himself to stand as well. "I thought there were people cooking for us, I mean."  
  
"There are," Conrad scratched absently at his arm, a small scar to be specific. Small, but deep... it must have hurt, and it still looked fairly new. "I just feel better making stuff myself sometimes... helps me feel almost normal again." Josh nodded at that, normal was something he hadn't felt in months.  
  
"Okay," he said simply, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The action made the waist sink a bit - he still needed new clothes, but kept putting it off. "Uh... I can... I mean, I'll go shower and then I'll help." It was still the dead of night, Josh had slept through the afternoon, though he didn't know when he woke up or how long he'd been hiding, let alone how long Conrad had sat next to him.  
  
"It's alright, man. If you're not hungry, we can do it some other time. I just thought I'd ask in case. Plus if we're gonna be living together... you know," he made a motion with his hand that was like a spinning, as if that was enough to continue the thought. It wasn't, but Josh got the idea. They should get along... at least make conversation sometimes.  
  
"No, it's cool. I'll be out in like, half an hour," he attempted a smile, though Josh could only imagine it looked as pathetic as the rest of him. "And thanks. For... you know," he mimicked the spinning hand motion and Conrad smiled. It was barely noticeable, but Josh saw it and felt his own smile grow just a bit in turn.  
  
"Any time."


	2. Sundown - 2000

"Do you still see her?" Conrad looked down at his hands, the dozens of tiny scars on his palms that couldn't quite manage to heal no matter how he cared for them. "Does she still whisper your name?"  
  
"Yeah," he sighed, and the sound of pencil on paper immediately followed. "Sometimes she looks young, and that's the scariest. I-I still can't explain why... you'd think a girl as pretty as that would be the opposite of scary, she's... she's just wrong. Not right. Li-like a... a ghost or something. A siren - like she just wants to draw you in and then she tears you into pieces and turns you into an all you can eat buffet."  
  
"You still use humor as a shield, Conrad. It's alright to be upset after experiencing the level of trauma you did. It's a natural response," the doctor spoke calmly, neutrally. Not patronizing or taking sides... just stating facts. "Confronting the old woman saved your life. Confronting your feelings might do the same."  
  
"I've tried," his hands raised, fingers lacing through blonde hair and gripping tightly. Tighter and tighter until it hurt. "All I feel is guilt. It was my fault... they're all dead because of me. All of them. And I got to live. Somehow I'm the only one who got to live. I thought Julia made it, at least her, b-but..." The words trailed off as the memories flowed in. Oh, Conrad. Oh, Connie. He did that, too. The last few minutes of the session passed in one-sided silence. Conrad heard the doctor speaking, but the words may as well have been in a different language. Something about self imposed... guilt, and trauma was in there. It was more of the same, every day. A gentle chime rang, and the doctor stood, thanked Conrad for his efforts, and then Conrad left. He hadn't worn the prosthetic that day, it was too painful. It throbbed and stung, and so he'd opted instead to use a pair of crutches.  
  
He walked down the hallways until he reached the entrance, then paused once his usual driver met him at the front door. There was something... off.  
  
"Good afternoon, sir. I apologize for any inconvenience, but I've been informed that you and young Joshua will be returning to your lodging together under my care," together? Oh great, he was gonna be stuck squeezed in a seat next to Josh. They had gotten along well enough, Conrad supposed, but it had only been a week... hardly long enough for him to feel comfortable sitting that close for that long. Their house was nearly an hour away, and that was a lot of awkward silence. Josh was a man of few words, and most times, Conrad had to squeeze conversation out of him.  
  
He sighed, but gave a nod and followed the driver to the car regardless. Once he was in, Conrad looked over at Josh who looked like he was sleeping. He didn't get much at the house, so it wasn't surprising. The few times Conrad had caught Josh sleeping, he looked so scared. The car started, and Conrad leaned an elbow on the door, still looking at Josh. He wondered what sort of shit this guy had been through... was it as bad as the freighter? Worse? After a few minutes, Conrad felt weird for staring, so he checked his phone instead. A few texts from college friends - more of the usual. Hope you're feeling better. Miss you. You should come to the party this weekend. They were all just words on a screen to Conrad, empty and meaningless. They just wanted his money, or a chance to rub elbows with him to take advantage later on. The only real friends and family Conrad might've ever had died at sea. He clutched his phone so hard that his knuckles turned white and held still as a statue for... well, he didn't know how long.  
  
"Hey, man," a voice forced Conrad out of his thoughts and made him jump such that he all but threw his phone. Josh managed to catch it, and Conrad realized he was the one who had broken the silence. "Sorry... you just looked like you were in a bad place."  
  
"No, it's... it's fine," he managed to fumble over the words with a sigh, clutching his hand over his shirt as he tried to steady his heart rate. "It's just the sessions, you know? Sometimes they help, but sometimes..."  
  
"I get it," Josh's voice was clear, cutting Conrad's sentence off cleanly. It was good to know they had that mutual understanding. It was good to know Conrad wasn't alone. "I talked my parents into stocking the house with some beer... when we get back, do you want any?"  
  
In truth, Conrad hadn't drank since the Duke. Since Julia got... since Julia. He looked down at his leg, amputated cleanly just above where the bullet had gone in. They had tried to save it, but between all the sea water, rust flakes, blood loss, and weird mist, it was probably doomed before Conrad made it off that freighter. The price he paid for not thinking fast enough. For wanting to help, but not knowing how.  
  
"Sure," he finally replied, managing to pull his eyes away from the leg to look at Josh. They shared a brief, hesitant smile, and then returned to their silence once Conrad was given his phone.  


  


* * *

  
The sun had long since gone down, and the pair found themselves sat on the couch with a dozen emptied beer bottles between them littered on the floor and the counter, and a large bottle of top shelf whiskey looking well tapped into. The TV was turned on to sports, hockey specifically, though neither of them were really watching. They were nursing their bottles like children, longing for the comfort of emotional numbness for reasons that were their own. Eventually, Josh managed to muster up the energy and coordination to check his phone. 2 AM. Ugh... no wonder he felt so tired. But he couldn't sleep, not when the nightmares were already clawing at the edges of his mind.  
  
"Hey, Conrad?" He said, eager for any distraction to keep him awake. His roommate was clearly exhausted, but still conscious enough to respond. "Can I ask you something?"  
  
"Hey, Josh. I dunno... depends on the question, I guess. You can ask," he grumbled just before taking another sip of his beer, blue eyes yet to leave the screen. "Dunno if I'll answer."  
  
"That's fair," Josh whispered more than spoke, taking a swig of his own drink. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but... how'd you lose your leg? Was it whatever got you stuck here?" Almost immediately, Josh noticed that Conrad looked pained. Like... really, really pained. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories, that was stupid to ask. Forget I said anything, man."  
  
"There were these... guys. Pirates, I guess. They came onto our boat one night," Conrad had cut Josh off before he could ramble much longer, and he looked like he was zoning out. He was staring into his bottle, and his knuckles were turning white. Josh didn't interrupt. "Tied us up... gagged us. They put us in the back room, then started taking us up top one by one. When it was my turn, they had Fliss, the captain, at gunpoint basically. They were threatening her, and I thought... I-I didn't know, I just wanted to help. I figured if I pissed them off enough, they'd leave her alone. They did. Took off part of my ear," he paused, lifting a hand to his right ear where the tip was indeed missing. It was definitely healing, but even so, it looked painful as hell. "I wanted to make them pay. Managed to grab one of them, had a knife at his throat. The leader looked like he was gonna surrender, but I didn't trust it. There was a smaller boat that I could have jumped to, but I didn't want to leave them... I didn't know what to do. I panicked, and did nothing. I got shot for it."  
  
Josh stared sadly at where Conrad patted his thigh. Most amputations he had seen or heard of were lower down. Below the knee, or at least halfway up the thigh, but this was seriously high up. Conrad barely had a right leg at all, it may as well have been amputated at the hip. "I'm..."  
  
"Don't," Conrad's response was harsh and blunt, forceful enough that Josh physically jumped and then shrunk back into the couch. The blonde sighed, having finally looked at Josh in time to see the panicked reaction. "I... I just don't want sympathy or pity or whatever. I don't deserve it," Josh had seen Conrad look distant, dissociation, exhaustion, even just thinking really hard. But he had never seen Conrad look as sad as he did then. Maybe that's why Josh did what he did, or maybe it was the alcohol. If anyone had asked, he would have lied and pretended he didn't remember, but no one had asked because no one else had known.  
  
No one except Conrad saw Josh put his drink down and move closer. No one except Josh saw that sadness like the depths of the ocean flash momentarily to fear. They were the only two who felt the warmth of a hug, the first meaningful physical contact in half a year for either. It took Conrad a few long seconds, but eventually, Josh felt a pair of hands resting on the small of his back, and the gentle weight of a head resting on his shoulder. Josh knew then that he and Conrad had more in common than he realized. Neither of them deserved sympathy or pity.  
  
So he just hugged Conrad. Sharing warmth, providing a gentle weight, and the silent affirmation that he understood. That they were in this together. They stayed like that, held in each other's arms until they both fell asleep.

  


* * *

  
When morning came, Josh found himself laid on top of Conrad in a rather unglamorous manner on the couch, arms and legs splayed and spilling over the edge. The TV was still on, the beer bottles were still on the counter nearby and on the floor even closer. His head was spinning and pounding all at once, and he wished more than anything that he was still asleep. But he couldn't just stay on top of Conrad all day for a number of reasons. A hand moved to Conrad's chest in an attempt to push himself up, but soon a pair of arms wrapped round Josh's frame, locking him in place. Brows furrowed in confused frustration, and he tried again to push himself away, but then he heard it.  
  
"Jules," it was a soft mumble, barely loud enough to be heard, let alone coherently, but Josh heard. Jewels? Like... jewelry? What the hell kind of nightmare was Conrad having? "Julia," he said again, this time with slightly more panic. Who was Julia? Josh didn't have time to think. The way this was going, Conrad was going to wake up any second, and Josh couldn't deal with the awkwardness of the confrontation, so he pretended to be asleep. Sure enough, after a few minutes, Conrad jolted slightly, and then sighed. The arms gripping Josh fell, or maybe raised, he couldn't say. "Josh," this time, Conrad's voice rang clear. A gentle shake came from a hand on the middle of Josh's back. "Josh."  
  
He stirred in a calculated manner, then slowly opened his eyes. Josh was more than a little too close to Conrad's face, and he jumped in his surprise, landing square on the floor. Small miracles - he didn't land on a bottle. "Sorry... must've passed out..."  
  
Conrad sat up, ruffling messy blonde locks with a yawn. "It's fine. Can you uh... get my..." he trailed off, pointing to the crutches that had fallen away from the couch in such a way that Conrad would never reach on his own.  
  
"Oh! Yeah. Yeah," Josh stuttered, scrambling to his feet to retrieve the crutches. When he handed them to Conrad, he saw a bit of that same sadness he'd seen the night before, though it was as if he was seeing it from a picture rather than up close. Clearly, he had experience hiding it. Josh hadn't realized he was staring until Conrad broke the silence.  
  
"Thanks. For the crutches, I mean," he cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from Josh's. Surely they both looked dead tired. "I'm gonna go back to sleep, just in my room. If you... I don't know... need anything? Just knock."  
  
"Sure," Josh started, making room for Conrad to stand. "Thanks, man. And you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the views and kudos so far! I can't guarantee regular updates, and certainly not scheduled ones, but I do plan on finishing this up in somewhere around 8 more chapters.


	3. Afterglow - 2100

Josh fiddled with his phone, scrolling absently through a list of games and apps he'd installed. None really interested him, so he opted to put on some music, instead. He looked out the window of his room, taking in the sight of the reds and pinks of sunset. It was beautiful, and he wondered if he shouldn't try going for a walk. Over the past two months of this strange therapy, he'd admittedly grown more comfortable in nature. He and Conrad had gone out a few times, following a dirt path that led through gentle woods toward a lake with a pier. The house had probably been intended as a summer retreat for either his parents or Conrad's, but they'd lent it out during the off-season. Josh sighed softly, then stood from his bed. The room was fairly plain, decorated with little aside from the essentials and a few mementos of his family and friends. A couple pictures of Hannah and Beth, a scarf that Sam had bought him, a bag Chris gave him back in high school, a movie he'd borrowed from Ashley and never returned... There were cards from the others, nothing particularly personal, but Josh couldn't bring himself to get rid of them. Jessica and Emily had been awful, and Mike was no better, but they didn't deserve the endings they had. And Matt... well, Josh didn't mind Matt, it was just a shame he got caught up with Emily. Josh exited the room with a nostalgic sigh, tucking his phone into the pocket of his sweats before closing the door behind him. He should get something to eat and check on Conrad. They'd become something close to friends over the past month, and Josh had learned that Conrad liked his space, but it was weird for him to stay cooped up in one spot for too long.  
  
Conrad leaned back on the bed, busying himself with random videos on the internet without much rhyme or reason to what he chose. Vlogs, comedy, critiques, gaming, even a couple makeup looks. He was on his fourth beer and had a pleasant buzz, one that distracted him from his usual dark thoughts without making him an absolutely useless mess. Mid-sip, a knock on his door nearly made Conrad spill the rest of the bottle all over himself and his bed. After choking it down, he stood and moved over to the door. It had to be Josh, obviously, so he didn't waste any time in his greeting. With the door open, his blue eyes landed on Josh displaying a rare, friendly smile, with arms full of chips and a full case of beers. Conrad couldn't hope to fight the grin that overcame him at the sight. "I didn't realize I ordered delivery."  
  
"You didn't," Josh laughed softly as Conrad made room for him to step inside. His room wasn't a complete mess, thankfully, but clothes were strewn about and there was more garbage laying around than Conrad would have liked. "But I figured you've been locked up in here all day... and we're supposed to be socializing or whatever, so let's socialize."  
  
"Oh, wow..." Conrad rolled his eyes, then made his way back to the bed. Before plopping down, he closed his laptop and grabbed the remote for the TV. "Just here to socialize, huh? Don't get too friendly there, Josh," Conrad chuckled as he flipped through a selection of movies and TV shows that the both of them could watch comfortably. Josh punched his arm, then plopped down on the edge of the bed next to Conrad, setting the beers on the floor by their feet in favor of opening the bag of chips.  
  
"We can't have the doctors thinking we're friends, can we? I mean, what if they just lock us up in here forever? I like you, man, but I don't want to live in this house like some kind of dude Rapunzel with less hair," Josh flashed a grin over at Conrad before shoving a chip in his face. They'd fallen into a comfortable rhythm, and that night a few weeks prior had helped. Josh had shared a bit of what happened to him - there was some sort of monster, caves, accidents, and then a big fire. He never shared that it was his fault everyone was there in the first place, but... maybe Conrad picked up on that anyway. Either way, that basis of mutual understanding helped them become friends. Knowing what each other had gone through meant they didn't step on toes or touch on any wore subjects. Josh came to understand that Conrad was less than eager to be around women, and Conrad learned that Josh's eating tendencies were hit or miss.  
  
"Woah, woah, you _like_ me? Josh, I don't know how to break this to you, but that's kinda gay," Conrad was teasing of course, but Josh scoffed anyway.  
  
"How do you know I'm not gay, huh? And even if I was, I wouldn't have a thing for you. Your cooking sucks," at that, Conrad set the remote down and gasped, one hand raising to his chest in feigned horror. Not at the prospect of Josh being gay - that hardly made a difference with how close they'd become lately - but at the idea that his cooking might suck.  
  
"You take that back! I'm a great cook. My eggs kick ass, and we both know it!" Josh burst out laughing, chucking a single chip at Conrad as he moved to shake a fist at Josh.  
  
"Fine, you spaz - your cooking isn't the worst. Now come on, what are we watching?"  
  
"Well, for some reason, I got recommended this one about some guy stranded out in the middle of nowhere... apparently it's a good movie, but there's no way in hell I'm here for that isolation shit."  
  
"Fair," Josh mumbled through chips crunching in his mouth. He was already in the process of climbing back on the bed to get under the blankets. "What else?"  
  
"Spy movie or rom com?" Conrad reached for the beers and joined Josh further back on the bed, reaching for the bottle he'd already opened. "Or if you want to stay for a while, there's a home improvement show that seems pretty cool."  
  
Josh hummed, then shifted the bag toward Conrad who gladly took a chip. "Let's watch the show. It's still early, and I don't have any other plans," Josh could've sworn he saw Conrad smile a little at that, but it was hard to tell between the chewing and side angle. He pushed a few buttons on the remote, adjusted the volume, and then leaned back comfortably against the pillow cushioned headboard.

* * *

  
After about 3 hours, the pair had settled into a comfortable position with Conrad leaning on Josh, and Josh's arm curled loosely around Conrad's shoulders. They were sincerely enjoying the relative peace of early night and the laid back atmosphere that the show provided. It was nice to share company, in truth, and both were thankful for the other. Conrad raised his beer to take another sip, but misjudged the pour in a moment of thoughtless clumsiness and spilled a bit on his shirt.  
  
"Oh, fuck," he sat up, mumbling another curse for both making a mess of his shirt and for having to leave the comfort and warmth they'd found. "Sorry, don't pause it, I'll be right back."  
  
"No problem, but if they get to the reveal before you're good, I'm definitely pausing it," Josh answered fairly lazily, presumably on his way to being drunk as well as perhaps a bit tired. Conrad stood from the bed and grabbed a spare shirt and pants from his dresser, then made his way to the bathroom connected to the bedroom. It was nice not having to go far and knowing he had his own space.  
  
He closed the door behind himself and tugged off his shirt first. Conrad tossed the shirt on the floor in a pile he'd started, and his attention was caught by the mirror. It had been a while since he last properly looked at himself. A number of small scars littered his face, most noticable was a cut fading on his nose, one on his lower lip, and one on his forehead near his eyebrow. He'd probably gotten them falling over something on that ship, but he couldn't remember. There were significantly more on the palms of his hands, and then there were his wrists. They'd healed well over the months and didn't itch or ache nearly as often, but it was still clear what they were from. There were some smaller scars going up his arms, mostly from getting scraped against metal. It was a wonder that he hadn't died from... whatever it was you got from rust. Actually, it was a wonder that woman hadn't killed him. He still remembered the sheer panic he felt when she had been chasing him. The metal shards flying at him, the way she warped into something horrifying, forever scarring his perception of women.  
  
Conrad wasn't sure how long he stood in the bathroom, nor did he hear the sounds of approach. "Conrad? You good, man?" It wasn't until he heard Josh's voice that Conrad managed to pull himself together.  
  
"I'm, uh..." He turned toward Josh, a slight tremble in his hands. "Yeah, I'm fine."  
  
Josh stepped closer, those stupid, big brown eyes narrowing up at Conrad. Clearly, he wasn't buying it. "What's up? Do you wanna talk about it?"  
  
Conrad stared at Josh for a few moments, trying to decide if he wanted to or not. "I just... was thinking about how much things changed. You know?"  
  
"Yeah," Josh's voice was soft, and his gaze shifted down to Conrad's hands, hesitating a brief moment before gently holding them. Conrad bit the inside of his cheek, not fully sure how to feel about the contact. How long had it been since the last time anyone really touched him? "It's not ever gonna be the same, but... it's not all bad," Josh was clearly forcing that optimism. They had both been through literal hell. No way was he just... okay. Neither one of them would ever be okay again. But they had each other, didn't they?  
  
Conrad didn't have the time to process his thoughts before he had leaned in and pressed his lips to Josh's. It tasted bitter and salty, and it was... odd kissing another guy. Not exactly wrong, but different, especially since Josh was stuck still as a statue. As soon as his brain caught up to his body, Conrad pulled back, eyes wide in surprise. "Shit, Josh, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking, I just... I mean I wasn't thinking. That was... can we just pretend I didn't do that?"  
  
Josh kept looking down, his hands still curled around Conrad's. He blinked a few times, silent as could be, and the lack of response nearly gave Conrad a heart attack. Had he fucked up? He would have to leave for sure, call his parents and figure something out. No way could they stay in the same house after Conrad was such a freak like that. "No," it was quiet, but Josh finally spoke.  
  
"What?"  
  
"No," Josh repeated, looking up at Conrad with an expression reminiscent of a sort of saddened confusion. "I don't want to pretend."


End file.
